I trace the chiselled words 'neath my fingers
embracing the cold winds caress
a solitary tear rolls down my cheek
and the memories fade with the light
You are always with me
but the blanket grows dusty
and the hearth grows cold
and the silence roars into nothing
Thank you for choosing me
was an honour to have known you
now go, take up your place
as a guide amongst the stars
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem